I've been up all night. I finished reading Moby Dick, then I wrote a paper about Moby Dick, then I wrote a paper about travel writing being bad for humanity because it's fiction presented as nonfiction which then causes people to go expecting the fiction and autoethnography in the contact zone then dictates that the fiction will become reality. Then I compiled portfolios. I'm working on bullshitting 40 journal entries I was supposed to have been doing all term. I'm on 26. I gave up on coffee and rockstar around 5AM when I switched back to yesterday's box of wine. It makes me feel more normal right now. I have to give a short presentation between 12:30 and 3:00 about the Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym. I hope I'm sober and awake. Well, awake at least.